The Good Griffin: Heart's Desired Mate

By J. C. McKenzie

He's a good griffin with a bad temper…

Damian Charming yearns to sweep a certain feisty lynx shifter off her feet. Every time he tries to talk to her, however, he sticks his foot in his mouth. He doesn't mean to sound condescending. Life would be easier if Lucy admitted he knows best, especially now that someone in town has threatened her. He's a good griffin (mostly) until someone messes with what's his.

She's an unlucky lynx with no time for trouble…

Lucy May hates Stillwater detective Damian Charming. Sure, he helped her with a horrible situation and has looks to rival the gods, but he also views lynx shifters as inferior supernatural beings. When someone targets the business she worked hard to create, though, Lucy turns to the one man she knows will mercilessly unearth the culprit.

It's more than just hex appeal…

When a hex sends the town into a storm of sexual shenanigans in the middle of the investigation, Lucy realizes just how bad she has it for the griffin. Now she needs to convince Damian her feelings are true and reel him in before his need for vengeance destroys the entire town.

The books in That Old Black Magic world and the Heart's Desired Mate series can be read as standalone stories and in any order.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J. C. McKenzie
• Release date: Nov 13, 2018
• ISBN: 9781775225157

Book preview

In Melissa Snark’s Love is the Law, Damian is a ruthless villain intent on a witch’s downfall. Every good story, though, has two sides. This is Damian’s…

Chapter One: A Sound Hammering

Monday morning, November 5th

Cool air rushed past Lucy as she stood precariously on the top rung of a step ladder. She clenched her teeth and swung the hammer.

Bam. Bam. Bam.

The strong aroma of coffee wafted from inside the coffee shop, along with the welcoming din of customers. The espresso machine whooshed and sprayed, the grinder ground fresh beans, and her employee, Tanner, called out completed orders. The Rise & Grind. Her coffee shop.

Hers.

The morning rush had started and at the rate she was going, she wouldn’t have the window boarded up until lunch. Not that she was inept, but every customer stopped on the street to greet her and ask how she was coping. Though she valued her customers and appreciated their concern, the constant interruptions meant she hadn’t nailed more than a single board in place, much less made anything secure.

What happened? Who did this? Do you need any help?

Her responses to the constant barrage of questions sounded hollow, even to her. The anger boiling in her veins from the broken window had dissipated, leaving her drained and as cold as the winter’s day.

Why would someone throw a brick through her window?

Teenagers on a dare? A dissatisfied customer? Coffee hater? None of these possibilities fit with the people of Stillwater, California, a small town nestled in the Sierra Nevada Mountains.

She needed to finish up and help Tanner before he got really swamped. She wiped her hands on her black jeans before bracing against the rough board again.

It’s a little crooked, a deep voice said from behind her.

Wha— She partially turned.

Whack!

Mid-swing the hammer slammed into her thumb holding the nail. Pain shot up from her hand. Lucy winced and pulled her arm in. Her thumb screamed. With a deep breath, she turned perilously on the ladder to face Detective Damian Charming.

Despite his name and appearance, there was really nothing charming about him.

She shook her hand by her side, hiding the action from Damian with her body. She wanted to suck on her thumb, or cry, Ow, ow, ow, but not with Damian a foot away.

Handsome, in a glass-cutting way, Damian peered up at her. His arrogant full lips smirking and his intense golden gaze laughing. Dressed in dark jeans and a fitted sweater to stave off the cold, he radiated confidence and power. Of course, the warm clothing was for show. He probably didn’t need any of it.

Meeeeeow, her inner lynx chose now to pipe up.

Not now, Whispurr.

When Lucy first met him, Damian had been swoon worthy in uniform, and then he had to go get promoted. Now, dressed in civilian clothes, he was beyond devastating to look at. With straight black hair curling slightly behind his ears to his jawline, tan, almost golden skin, and a tall powerful build, his presence evoked all sorts of naughty fantasies.

Until she remembered she hated him.

Or he opened his mouth.

Or both.

Are you okay? Damian narrowed his eyes and leaned to the side, probably trying to get a better look at her hidden hand.

To anyone else he might sound sincere, concerned even, but Lucy wasn’t fooled. Damian Charming was a self-absorbed elitist. She was probably one of the few who knew his true identity as a griffin—the half eagle, half lion, lord of all beasts.

Lucy? Damian frowned.

He expected an answer. What had he asked again? Was she okay? Not in the slightest.

Fine, thank you. She climbed down the ladder with as much dignity as she could muster. She’d pounded in enough nails to hold the board in place until she had more time to deal with the disaster of her café’s storefront.

She glanced at her work. Dammit, Damian was right. It was crooked.

Hi, Lucy. Damian’s partner stepped around the bulk of Damian to smile at her.

Hi, Mateo. How’ve you been?

Pretty good. Sorry to hear about the window. Hispanic with dark hair and dark eyes, Detective Mateo Savage was serious and quiet. Too reserved for her taste, but Lucy always had a soft spot for the panther shifter. Maybe because they were both felines. Or maybe because he was a stand-up guy and always respectful and courteous.

Honestly, the detectives should swap surnames for the sake of accuracy.

Yeah, she said, addressing his window comment. Not the way I wanted to start my Monday. She folded the ladder. Have you heard from Jewel recently?

Of course. My sister couldn’t escape me if she tried. Mateo winked. His younger sister left the den in the fall to attend college and the protective detective was having a hard time with it, no matter what he tried to tell anyone else. Let’s go inside and get your statement.

Sounds good. She glanced at Damian.

He glowered.

She stumbled. The ladder slipped from her grip, but she caught it before it fell to the snow-dusted sidewalk. She readjusted her hold. Isn’t investigating random acts of vandalism a little beneath you two?

Damian and Mateo exchanged a look.

Things are slow, Damian bit out.

Geez. How was the lack of crime her fault? She could up it, of course, but he wouldn’t be around to solve his own murder.

Mateo frowned at Damian before turning to her. Here, Luce. Let me take the ladder for you. Damian will get us coffees and we can take your statement.

Before she could argue, Mateo extracted the ladder from her clutches, and Damian held the door open, his rings glinting in the morning light. One of those silver rings shielded his essence from nosy supernaturals and perpetuated his warlock image. Lucy didn’t know why. She’d never met a griffin before, but Damian didn’t strike her as the type to balk from unwanted attention. He had to be hiding his nature out of necessity.

Lucy shivered. What on earth would be powerful enough to take down someone as formidable as Damian?

Thanks, she said to both men, and walked past them into the café.

Warm heavenly-scented air from her coffee shop rushed out—strong and potent. She let the moment wash over her. Muted outside, the cacophony of customers chatting, dishes clanking and the espresso machine steaming milk greeted her unhindered and at full volume.

Tanner, her barista and the only other full-time employee at Rise & Grind, glanced up from behind the counter. Panic splayed across his face.

I have to help Tanner first.

You want us to wait? Damian grumbled.

Lucy bit her tongue. Did he not see how busy it was? This business put food on the table and a roof over her head. She wouldn’t let it languish and risk dissatisfied customers or burnt out staff to appease the mighty lord griffin.

Why, yes. She wanted them to wait. She’d chew him out, but he really didn’t get it. And his lack of interpersonal skills hadn’t stopped him from helping her in a prickly situation a few years ago. Damian Charming, for all his faults, had come to her rescue. And bonus points to him, even though he’d seen her at her weakest, he hadn’t thrown it in her face.

Yeah, she hated him…but sometimes she felt something else entirely when she saw him. Something just as strong and infuriating, and too disturbing to name.

She turned to walk away.

Damian grunted.

The din of the busy café muffled Mateo’s words. Dude. Ease up.

Look at the line. We’re slammed, Lucy said over her shoulder. "Can my statement please wait?"

Well, you already disturbed any evidence the perpetrator would’ve left, so I guess waiting won’t do any more harm.

Ugh. All the tenderness for the cop fled. Without a backward glance, she walked away and slipped behind the counter. She pulled off her oversized knit sweater, leaving a simple T-shirt, and tied a serving apron around her waist.

About time! Tanner’s harried expression was almost comical.

Sorry. That took longer than I thought.

The window or the police?

Both, actually.

Is it done?

She shook her head. Not even close.

Balls. Tanner squeezed her shoulder. He called out an order and slid a to-go cup across the countertop.

The line moved quickly with Lucy at the helm and Tanner diligently completing the orders. They worked well together. The partially boarded window blocked the usual sunlight from streaming in, but the café’s internal lighting provided a soft glow.

After a few minutes and several customers, Damian stood in front of the counter, gaze forward, lost in thought. He always got the coffees when he came in with Mateo. He was such a control freak, he didn’t trust his own partner to get the order right even though it was the same every time.

Damian? Lucy rose an eyebrow.

Huh?

The usual for you two?

Yeah. He pulled out his wallet and rifled through the bills. I didn’t mean to give you a hard time earlier.

About the crooked board or disturbing the evidence? She plucked the bills from his outstretched hand.

Both. His lips remained pressed firmly in a thin line, losing the fullness she sometimes found herself dreaming about.

She collected the change from the cash register and held it out for him.

He shook his head.

Thanks. She dumped the coins into the tip jar and returned his stare. Tanner will get your drinks.

Lightning flashed in Damian’s gaze.

After an embarrassing encounter during a run, she’d discovered not only his nature, but his derision toward her and her abilities. He told her the idea of her confronting her father about his attempts to extort and then kidnap her was absurd and she should leave the fighting to the big boys—in other words, him. Sure, he had a point, but his words and the way he spoke them gave away more than the simple truth. They said what he really thought of her.

Nothing ruined a fantasy faster than discovering her crush viewed her as inept when she stood naked in front of him in a moonlit forest. That night could’ve played out in so many other ways. More pleasurable ways. But, on par with the rest of her life, reality paled in comparison to her fantasies.

Lucy leaned to the side and called out, Next?

Damian grunted and moved out of the way.

Heat pressed against Lucy’s face as she steamed the milk and finished the last of the orders from the morning rush.

I’m sure your Monday will improve. An attractive businessman with silver hair smiled. His even white teeth invited her to scrub the scowl from her face.

Pardon? She slid his latté across the counter.

The man jerked his head toward the window. Heard some of the other customers talking about it. Bad luck.

She blew a stray strand of light brown hair from her face. Bad luck was her middle name. She’d deal with this like she dealt with all the other bumps in the road—a ruthless, systematic approach to solving the problem, followed by shredding apart a hapless rabbit in the neighboring forest. Maybe two. Filling her belly with food she caught herself always put a little pep in her step.

Does this sort of thing happen often? he asked.

Her stomach sank. It didn’t used to.

First, Mrs. Bee’s flower shop, now her store. Could the incidents be related? In a small town like Stillwater, the likelihood of two vandals was low to non-existent.

The man frowned, accentuating his chiseled features. Shame. I was thinking of investing in the area. I might have to re-evaluate.

Lucy studied the man in front of her. He didn’t appear or smell supernatural, but he exuded confidence. He wore a thick silver ring around his index finger. A charm maybe? To hide his true nature from everyone else? Stillwater rarely got non-supernatural visitors, and when they did, the strong aversion spells generally made their stay short.

The man looked at her expectantly, but she had no clue what to say besides to thank him for his business and wish him a pleasant stay in Stillwater. After he left, she grabbed a coffee—Americano soy misto—and made her way to the detectives.

Mateo sprawled in one of the lounge chairs. His cup sat on the table beside Damian’s, but the seat across from him remained empty. Instead, Damian’s sweater lay strewn across the cushion.

Where’s Damian? She pulled up a chair.

Mateo smiled and straightened. He slid his phone into his pocket. Righting a wrong?

She almost snorted. If he was out committing random acts of kindness, he wouldn’t make it back before the lunch rush.

Mateo’s expression gave nothing away, but his shirt told another story.

Why is your shirt wet?

Mateo scowled. Incident with a faulty tap.

Lucy glanced at the doors leading to the kitchen where her friend Keira had been washing dishes. The bear shifter wasn’t an employee, but she’d rushed over to help when she spotted the shattered window.

A faulty tap?

Yup.

Well, okay then. She didn’t believe a word, but if he didn’t want to talk about it, she wasn’t going to pry. She relaxed into her chair. Can you take my statement?

Sure thing, Luce.

The door opened and cool air flowed in with Damian. He clutched a hammer in one hand and her ladder in the other. His shirt stretched across his strong chest.

Her mouth dropped open.

Damian strode across the room toward the counter, seemingly unaware of the appreciative glances cast his way by a number of the female patrons, and returned the ladder to Tanner. When had the detective grabbed it? How did she not notice? How had she missed the hammering?

Oh, god. Hammering. She squeezed her eyes shut at the dirty thought. Why did she have to think of that now?

Why’d he have to look so good in a simple T-shirt?

Did you finish boarding the window? she asked when he walked over. Out of all the questions rampaging through her brain, she was glad she settled on that one.

Well, someone had to fix it. He flopped down in his chair. His lips curled up in a smug smile.

Lucy clutched the handle of her mug.

Take a deep breath, Whispurr said.

He can’t help being arrogant. He’s a griffin, lord of all beasts.

Take another breath. The first one didn’t work, Whispurr prodded.

"Thank you for fixing the board." She was doing just fine patching up her place without him, thank you very much.

Take another breath, psycho, Whispurr said. He’s being nice.

Her irritation slowly flowed from her veins and dissipated. Her lynx had a point. Damian went out of his way to help her. Again.

I wish you’d have waited until we arrived before cleaning up, Damian said.

Quick! Breathe.

Was he trying to piss her off? I couldn’t close down for the day and lose business because some punk decided to take out their angst on my window. Monday morning is one of our busiest times. I also couldn’t have customers walking through glass or sitting by a gaping hole in the window in November with a brick as their centerpiece.

Damian opened his mouth to speak.

She thunked her mug on the table between then and kept going. I arrived at work an hour before opening and called it in. I called my insurance company next and took pictures of the scene before I touched a thing. These are the directions the police station gave me when I called, so giving me crap about following orders, after the fact, doesn’t accomplish anything except making my day worse than it already is.

Mateo’s dark brows rose.

Damian’s intense gaze softened. He leaned back. His shoulders relaxed into the chair and the fabric of his shirt stretched even more across his chest. I wasn’t trying to give you crap, Luce.

Seems like it to me, she grumbled and crossed her arms. Oh god. Did he have to call her Luce? Her nickname spoken with his deep rumbling voice was more than she could handle right now.

Mateo coughed.

She glanced over.

He took a deep sip